Always
by The Mysterious Blind Bandit
Summary: Sailor Pluto, millennia, duty, and lost time. One-shot. Pluto/Serenity.


Inspired by several Pluto/Serenity headcanon and feelings jams on Tumblr and Goggles. Many thanks to Jet Wolf for hosting them and putting up with us all on a regular basis.

* * *

The Mists kept swirling an especially oppressive dark grey upon her return to the Gates.

The eddies of the time stream that had flowed together so dangerously, tumultuous enough to have driven her back to her post, served as a grim reminder of just how much damage reckless neglect on her part could cause. The Queen had allowed her to leave the Gates, yes, had even insisted upon it. She had wanted _her Pluto_ to spend a warm, pleasant summer season at her side. How could she have ever denied her Queen such a request?

(Every time her Queen's quiet, calm voice called her _my Pluto_, she felt both as if the always-pressing burden of her duty had been suddenly lifted off her shoulders, never to return, and as if an irresistible weight was pulling her down, down…)

So they had enjoyed their quiet summertime evenings, and she had been happy, so very happy that it had, after months of complacency, taken a serious temporal disturbance to jolt the supposed Time Guardian out of her fanciful dream and into bleak reality. Serenity was immediately forgiven, of course – how could Pluto blame her for simply being a woman in love? – but for Pluto herself there could be no excuses. Some things she could forgive anyone, even a Queen, but never herself.

But oh, what high praise the Queen always had for her!

_Her Pluto_

_Her confidante_

_Her pillar_

_Her strength_

_Her guardian_

(and although Pluto knew, was almost painfully aware, that she wasn't the Queen's guardian, that that role was meant for others, just like her lonely one was meant for none but her, that her constant visits and insistence on staying by her Queen's side were in violation of her duty, she knew just as well that her devotion remained unmatched, for good or ill)

_Always_

Always had been a word thrown around quite casually and surprisingly often between them, mostly on the Queen's part. Pluto kept her thoughts of eternity to herself and let the oaths of fealty she kept retaking with every breath remain silent. Besides, Serenity could just as easily read them in her every action – even when the action was _leaving_. Or so she dearly hoped.

Gazing away from the swirling darkness of the futures that were growing more certain by the day, she turned instead to a view of her Queen, sleeping now alone in a bed she had dared to share. Her thoughts slowly yet unstoppably turned once again to _always_, and how both long and short it could prove to be.

There would only ever be one _always_ for Pluto.

—-

The Little Princess had run away again, skilfully weaving her way through the Palace corridors and passages on her tried and trusted path to the kitchens, and the all-too-easily pilferable stock of cakes there. She would become a force to be reckoned with one day, Pluto was certain, if she could already so quickly slip from under eagle-eyed Mars' gaze and Jupiter's ever-looming protective presence. The both of them would probably be tearing their hair out by now – Pluto snuck a glance and yes, there they were, calling for the Little Princess, combing through playrooms in the east wing. But their Princess was at the other side of the Palace by now, happily heading towards a full stomach, a smudged face, a ruined dinner, and, later on, a scolding that would certainly not be as harsh as it perhaps should be.

But then – a sudden occurrence in one of the little-used, more dimly lit corridors. The Princess took a wrong, wobbly step, her toes caught on a slightly uneven floor tile (her mother would have the floor torn up and replaced once she heard, Pluto was certain), and, with time for little more than a yelp, down she went in a pile of white gowns and golden hair.

Tears followed quickly and loudly, the slight girl clutching at a skinned knee, making no effort to get up. With her loud cries piercing the usual silence of the Gates of Time, how nobody close to her in the Palace heard her or came to her aid remained a mystery to Pluto. Her guardians should never have let themselves be so far from her…

Pluto's arms twitched as if they wished to fold themselves around the distraught form of the sobbing girl – but this impulse was quashed immediately. Besides, with the cold, heavy staff of her office, how could she ever hold and comfort the Little Princess properly? No, these were matters best left to others and never meant for her to handle.

Pluto turned away.

—-

An end was coming. She could see it in the darkly tainted tangle of the streams she tirelessly watched over, just as easily as she could tell by the strained tightening of her Queen's shoulders, the newly added steel in her posture – and the sudden tenderness and warmth lavished on her precious daughter.

The Queen had not heeded the early reports of stirrings on Earth and rising unrest. Whether it was a doomed prideful confidence in the power and superiority of her glorious Silver Millennium, or merely a mistake born of tiredness on the part of a long-ruling monarch preparing to step down, the damage had been done.

The majestic parties, royal dances and masked balls continued, of course. Pluto stood guard at her post, as she knew she had to.

(_Someone_ had to - a much younger Queen would have said - why not let someone _else_ do it for a while? After all, how hard could it be? But that had been a question of uncountable years ago, and Pluto had quietly slipped down the Queen's list of concerns.)

The Princess' guardians remained vigilant as always, but there would be nothing the four of them could do, no matter how shiningly brilliant, devoted or determined.

An end was coming for them all.

But not for Pluto.

—-

The dust had barely settled behind the armies from Earth when Pluto stepped onto the surface of the Moon. What had so recently been the sparkling heart of the Silver Millennium was already deader and colder and hauntingly quieter than the Gates of Time had ever been, even in Pluto's darkest moments.

The Little Princess – not so little anymore – was lying draped over her handsome Earth prince. Such a far cry from the tiny, red-faced, loudly weeping girl with a scrape on her knee. Her guardians had gone down fighting and from what Pluto could see had accounted well for themselves. But it had, of course, not been enough.

She turned from the aftermath of the disaster she had quietly watched unfold and went to where she knew her Queen would be.

She was alive still, but only barely. The ever-present and formerly so awe-inspiring silver glow around her had dimmed dangerously low, and Pluto knew it wouldn't be long until it went out completely. She knelt next to her fallen Queen, daring to take one of her hands gently. Serenity stirred and raised her eyes slowly, looking more tired and faded than Pluto had ever seen her and, frighteningly, growing more suited to her name by the second.

The visions had been nothing compared to what the reality turned out to be, and Pluto failed to repress a shudder. Her Queen was still with her, however, and even managed to, in her final moments, offer a ghosting caress over Pluto's cheek.

"It is good to see you again, my faithful Pluto."

The familiar words made her own almost choke her, but with great effort she managed to force them out.

"Always, my Queen."

A thousand-year silence settled on the Moon.


End file.
